Chapter Text
Neji breathed harshly through his nose, his breaths uneven despite every effort he made to slow them. Sweat ran cold beneath the collar of his shirt and gathered at the base of his neck, soaking through the fabric until it clung unpleasantly to his skin. He could still feel the phantom pressure of Hiashi's palm against his chest where the last strike had landed, how his body had folded around the blow before he forced himself upright again.
He had lasted longer this time, he was improving, and that should have been enough.
"Again." Hiashi commanded, and Neji obeyed.
The training ground was quiet now. Hiashi had left several minutes ago, and Neji remained kneeling where he'd been told to recover, one hand braced against the dirt while he waited for the trembling in his muscles to subside. He kept his head bowed, staring at the dark patch of earth beneath him. His fingers dug into the soil until it became caked beneath his nails.
He had lost, again. It shouldn't have surprised him, Hiashi was stronger, more experienced, and knew the Gentle Fist as intimately as Neji did. There were limits to what a fourteen year old could accomplish against the head of the Hyūga clan, and Neji understood that better than anyone, except perhaps Hinata and Hanabi.
He slowly pushed himself upright, breathing through the pain. His right side protested, and he clenched his teeth as the pain spread beneath his ribs. He waited until it dulled, then forced himself to stand. At least there was nobody here to see him struggle, a small mercy.
Neji brushed the dirt from his palms and looked toward the path Hiashi had taken. His uncle had not said much after the final exchange, he rarely did. A correction, an observation, and then the inevitable dismissal.
Neji knew every criticism was deserved.
He just wished, sometimes, that there was anything else. Something besides another thing he had failed to do correctly. He grimaced at his own line of thinking, how pathetic was he. He didn't need praise, it was meaningless, useless in the grand scheme of things.
He didn't need anyone to tell him he was good. He needed to become good enough that nobody could say anything else.
"Your guard drops when you're tired."
He stopped, and for a second, Neji wondered if Hiashi had returned. Then he realized the voice, certainly not his uncles, had come from behind him.
He turned slowly, and there was someone standing among the trees.
Anbu.
Neji froze, his next breath catching in his chest before he could exhale.
He had seen them before, of course. Masked figures perched on rooftops during important events, moving silently through the village with an efficiency that made ordinary shinobi seem almost clumsy by comparison.
But he had never spoken to one before. Never needed to. That he was, now, could not have been a good sign.
The figure wore the standard Anbu uniform, the animal mask concealing nearly everything about their face. Neji's Byakugan activated instinctively, pale veins rising around his temples as he studied them. Nothing jumped out at him, apart from their mostly suppressed chakra, but still, his shoulders remained tense.
"What can I do for you?" Neji asked, trying to seem relaxed, despite the tension filling his body. He was exhausted, and they were Anbu.
"I wasn't sent to retrieve you." They told him, and Neji figured it was supposed to be reassuring, but there was very little they did, that was non-violent, outside of telling people to go see the Hokage.
Neji didn't move, and the Anbu stepped out from between the trees, stopping several paces away. They made no attempt to approach him further.
"I watched your training." They said, and Neji felt a rush of confusion, and a little shame. It was not his best training session...
"Why?" He asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.
"Because you're interesting." They replied, and the answer was so unexpected that Neji didn't immediately know how to respond. The Anbu glanced toward the training ground, the dust had long since settled, but there was clear evidence of a fight.
"Your uncle is very good."
Neji's expression hardened slightly, really hoping he was not about to have to die fighting an Anbu soldier with a grudge against his uncle.
"He is." Neji agreed slowly, shifting his stance ever so slightly.
"But he isn't teaching you everything." Neji blinked at them, confused, and the Anbu continued. "You're fighting someone you have to protect."
"So?" Neji questioned, narrowing his eyes for a moment. Was the Anbu here to insult him? What was going on?
"So you're limiting yourself." They said, and Neji grew confused again.
"I am not." Neji insisted, but they shook their head once.
"You are." The retort came without hesitation. "You don't strike where you could. You pull your attacks when your opponent moves into your blind spot. You hesitate when your instincts tell you to press an advantage because you're worried about causing unnecessary damage."
Neji's fingers curled against his palms, that wasn't true. Was it?
The Anbu watched him for a moment before adding quietly, "You're being trained to fight an opponent you must never truly defeat." Neji looked away, contemplative. "You could be much stronger." They said, voice softer, and Neji looked up at them.
Neji looked back, opening his mouth slightly in shock. It wasn't praise exactly, but it was someone believing he had potential. An Anbu, no less. It felt different coming from them, than from Guy-sensei, or his peers.
"You're already exceptional for your age," the Anbu added. "Your Byakugan is unusually well developed, your chakra control is precise, and your ability to read movement is better than most chunin I've encountered."
Neji stared at them, fighting back a blush.
The Anbu shrugged slightly. "And yet you're still training like... that."
"Like what?" Neji asked, because he was desperate to keep this conversation going. This was an experience unlike any other he has ever had.
"Like you're trying to prove you deserve to be here."
"You don't know anything about me." Neji huffed, slightly offended.
"No." The masked face remained unreadable, and Neji felt the back of his neck prickle. "But I've been watching."
Neji had spent most of his life trying to become impossible to overlook. He had trained until his hands bled, fought until his muscles shook, learned techniques faster than anyone expected, and still there were days when he felt as though the entire clan could look directly through him and see nothing but the seal on his forehead.
And this stranger had watched him for one afternoon, and they had seen him.
"You said I could be stronger." Neji redirected, pressing for information.
"I think you could be much stronger." They replied, and Neji's heart stuttered in his chest. He was suppressing every possible emotion, lest he do something stupid like smile. "If you want to be."
"How?" Neji asked, and for a long moment, the Anbu stared at him. Neji stared back.
"Additional training." They said simply, "Outside your regular schedule. Outside your team's instruction."
Neji's mind immediately supplied every reason he should refuse. He had familiar obligations, an obligation to his team, and missions. And no idea why an Anbu operative would take an interest in him.
And yet, beneath all of those thoughts, something much smaller and much more dangerous whispered:
They chose you.
The Anbu seemed to wait patiently.
"You wouldn't be the first shinobi we've trained separately."
Neji looked toward the village, biting his lip in thought. "Does the Hokage know?"
A pause. Then: "Yes."
Neji's spine straightened, and he looked back at the Anbu. If this was sanctioned by the Hokage, then there was nothing improper about it. Whatever discomfort he felt was irrelevant. Anbu did not approach genin casually, and they certainly didn't offer additional training without reason. This was an opportunity.
"When?" Neji asked, and he couldn't see their face, but he imagined they were pleased.
"Tomorrow."
"Where?"
"I'll find you." Neji nodded, though the answer made his stomach twist. But then the Anbu added, "You made the right choice."
The words were almost painfully ordinary, but Neji felt pressure rise behind his eyes. He lowered his head quickly so the Anbu wouldn't see his expression. And by the time he looked back up, the masked figure had disappeared. Neji remained standing in the empty training ground.
Nothing else seemed important anymore.
Neji spent the rest of the evening thinking about the Anbu, though he tried not to.
He ate dinner without tasting it, and retreated to his room earlier than usual under the excuse of exhaustion. Once the door was closed behind him, however, his mind returned stubbornly to the conversation. He could still hear their voice, could still remember the precise words they had chosen.
Neji had been praised before, many times. He was regarded as a prodigy, after all. Guy-sensei constantly complimented his progress, and Lee seemed to think nearly everything he did was extraordinary, but this had been different. The Anbu had not praised him out of enthusiasm or affection. They had been evaluating him, and they thought he was exceptional.
Neji lay awake far longer than he should have, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, he would be ready.